


honey (you're familiar)

by sporadichearttcollector



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fairies, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporadichearttcollector/pseuds/sporadichearttcollector
Summary: "I'm just saying you should consider that having a Queen is important and you shouldn't toss the idea aside because you'd rather go frolic in the flowers.""Mushrooms," Andrew murmurs. "That was his mushroom fever dream face."Neil flushes, breaking eye contact to stare at a very interesting scratch in his desk.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 15
Kudos: 243
Collections: AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2020





	honey (you're familiar)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a day late and a dollar short but I've poured my blood and tears into it so here it is, hope you enjoy. art can be found [here](https://still-waiting-for-godot.tumblr.com/post/613807129115197440/still-waiting-for-godot-im-excited-to-finally)  
> I'm posting this from my phone so please let me know if you see any issues!  
> thank you Eli and Ollie for the beta yall are amazing

Neil sniffs softly, eyes fluttering as he cracks one open. He rubs a hand along the soft petal of the tulip he’s been napping in and sits up slowly, cracking his back as he goes. “Andrew?” he calls softly, and is immediately blinded by sunlight filtering through the crack in the petals that Andrew pulls apart. 

“Finally awake?”

“How long was I asleep?” Neil yawns softly, squinting at Andrew.

“Only a few hours.” Andrew holds out a hand to help Neil out of the tulip. “Long enough for my bands to get covered in pollen.” 

Neil rolls his eyes as he climbs out.

“If you switched to a different material, they wouldn’t get all messy.”

“I won’t sacrifice my aesthetic for your naps.” Andrew snorts, brushing his arms off and glaring at Neil’s hair. “It’s all over your head.”

“Yeah, that generally happens.”

“You look ridiculous.”

“Not as much as you do in all that black.” Neil grins. “It’s summer. You must be sweltering.”

“Shut up.” Andrew says. “We should go back. Your uncle will be wondering where you are.” Neil sighs quietly but nods, rolling his shoulders and stretching his wings. 

They’re barely a few flowers away when Andrew’s iron grip drags Neil behind a particularly vibrant tulip, the tell-tale rustling of raven feathers sounding far too close. Neil silently pulls his bow from where it is slung over Andrew’s shoulder, and draws an arrow. He takes a deep breath, carefully peeking around the flower and taking aim at the raven squawking from its place a few feet away. It turns its beady eyes towards him. As Neil's fingers begin to slip off of the bowstring, something blurs in his vision and grabs the raven by its skinny neck. Neil tightens his grip before the arrow flies, and lowers his bow to stare in awe. 

The bird’s life is snatched quickly and Neil realizes it’s a pretty calico cat that has killed it. 

Neil flies towards the cat, Andrew's fingers skimming the back of his arm as he moves away. Neil lands in front of the cat just as it drops the lifeless raven and their eyes meet. 

"Neil!" Andrew calls out in alarm, but Neil holds out a hand to keep him back. 

The cat kneels on its front paws, so its face is right in front of Neil. Neil slowly reaches out a hand, until it brushes against the cat's nose. 

"I'm Neil," he murmurs, sliding his hand up the cat’s face and stepping over the raven. "I've never seen anything quite like you." The cat nudges him gently, and Neil leans in to press his forehead to the cat's. He gently pets the soft fur, and lets out a quiet noise of surprise when he finds its collar. Neil ducks a little to look at it, and the cat helpfully raises its head.

" _ Sir Fat Cat McCatterson _ ," Neil reads aloud. "What a name. Pleasure to meet you. I hope you don't mind me calling you Sir for short." The cat gently butts his palm. 

Sir turns out to be a girl, and she is incredibly soft. Neil beckons Andrew over."Sir, meet Andrew. Andrew, this is Sir. I think I was meant to find her, as I was to meet you." 

Andrew's ears pink, but he nods, forcing his eyes away from the fond look on Neil’s face. “I hate you.” 

Neil ignores him. 

"I'm bringing her home. I don't care about my uncle's reaction."

Andrew reaches out with his magic, searching for any darkness or ill intent withinher, and finds none. Just a fierce protectiveness.

"She's clearly meant to be yours. Your uncle will not fight that." 

"He’d better not," Neil grumbles and climbs atop her. Andrew flies up and hesitantly sits behind him. "Hold my waist," Neil tells him. "I don't think this will be very smooth." Neil takes tiny handfuls of Sir's fur to direct her towards home. 

They only make it a few yards when another raven swoops out of the trees. This time Neil's arrow strikes it right in the eye, aided by Sir's clever maneuvering. Andrew stays silent the whole ride, but hangs on tightly.

Neil leans back in Andrew's arms, just a bit, and enjoys the scenery.

His uncle greets him at the gates, eyes wide in what appears to be amazement.

“Nathaniel, what in the world?” he calls out, as he flies towards them and stops short, just out of reach of the cat. 

“I found her out in the field,” Neil says, gliding off of Sir and coming to a halt in front of her. He leans in, pressing his forehead against hers. “She’s meant for me. I can just feel it.” Sir purrs, nudging Neil lightly. Andrew appears next to Neil, looking at Neil’s uncle. 

“She isn’t a danger to him,” Andrew says. “She wants nothing more than his safety.”

Uncle Stuart nods slowly, carefully approaching and holding out an unsteady hand. Neil steps to the side and helps guide his uncle’s hand until it’s resting gently on Sir’s nose. 

“I can feel it,” Stuart whispers. “Her fondness for you.” He looks back to Neil. “I’m glad she found you.”

“Me too,” Neil smiles.

~

Andrew shoves Neil gently into a chair, snatching the comb from his desk and taking up post behind him. He plucks the small flowers and vines from Neil's hair, carefully untangling Neil’s braids and running the comb through the strands. The bits of pollen are harder to get out, requiring the use of Andrew's nimble fingers and a few handfuls of water.

"How do you manage to gather so much shit in your hair?" Andrew asks, pinning up the top half in order to reach the bottom. Neil's hair is soaked through by the end, but it's clean.

"Who knows." Neil laughs. "Certainly not me."

"You're lucky I'm willing to do this for you, I can't imagine a maid who would have the patience."

"I'm lucky to have you in my life, Andrew, I already know that." Neil smiles at him in the mirror, and enjoys the way Andrew’s ears go a soft pink.

"I hate you," Andrew mutters, swiftly parting Neil's hair down the middle and pulling the pieces into a simple braid that will keep the too-long strands out of Neil's eyes.

"You're a horrible liar," Neil grins. Andrew stays silent, focused on the task at hand. He finishes quickly and strides across the room to ring the bell for supper.

"Andrew?"

"Neil."

"Thank you." Neil's whole face softens into a fond smile. "I appreciate you so much. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Neil, I am aware." Andrew sighs, walking back over and taking a seat beside Neil. "You only tell me every chance you get. Why else would I put up with you?"

"For all the sweets you buy with the money my uncle pays you," Neil snorts.

"That's true." He grabs a few of the random vines and flowers Neil puts in his hair, weaving them back into the loose wet strands. 

“You’re making a mess,” Neil whines. “I’ll have to clean it again.”

“You mean  _ I’ll _ have to clean it again,” Andrew corrects him, batting away one of Neil’s hands. “It’s fine, it’ll all have to be brushed out anyway so it doesn’t stay wet all night.”

“Why do you always have to be right?”

“Why do you always have to be wrong?”

Dinner arrives, and they eat in comfortable silence, before Andrew retakes his place behind Neil and gently pulls out the plants and combs out the braid. 

“Do you want my help with the night care or are you good?” Andrew murmurs, running his fingers through the damp strands.

“I’ve got it,” Neil tells him, smiling. “Thank you, Andrew.”

“You’re welcome, Neil.” 

Neil walks with him to the door, hesitantly reaching out and linking their pinkies together. Andrew slowly leans tightens the hold, swinging their arms. Neil leans against the door jamb as Andrew leaves the room, but doesn’t unhook their pinkies. 

“Goodnight, Neil.” Andrew squeezes his hand gently. 

“Goodnight, Andrew.” Neil squeezes back. 

~

  
  


“The Spring Masquerade is a tradition that goes back generations,” Stuart drones. “The Hatfords have graciously held it in our grand halls, with the first dance led by the crown prince or princess.” 

Neil doesn’t even pretend to be listening, instead gazing out the window. It’s raining and he can just barely see the tops of the mushroom field. Neil rolls his head to the side to look at Andrew, who is napping in the corner. 

The dark circles under his eyes send a pang of something close to guilt through Neil. He knows Andrew works too hard, staying up too late and waking too early, constantly vigilant just to protect Neil. 

Neil turns back to the window, ignoring the feeling, and instead imagines how sweet the raindrops would feel against his wings. A smile tugs at his lips when he thinks of Andrew out there, scowling because of the rain and hiding under the mushrooms, darting between them to keep up with Neil. 

Nothing in the world is more beautiful than Andrew out in the mushroom fields during the rain. The way his pretty blonde hair goes golden, his whole threatening demeanor washing away beneath the rain. How he lets himself smile, just the slightest pull of his lips, watching Neil twirl between the mushroom stalks. 

The best part, Neil thinks, is when the rain begins to slow and the sun peeks through the clouds, shining down on Andrew and drenching him in a beam of gold.

“Nathaniel, I can see you aren’t paying any attention.” Stuart chides. “This is important, you realize. One day you will have to teach your children this.”

“I’m not having kids,” Neil rolls his eyes. “I’ll let the throne pass to one of Jamie’s children, I have no interest in making ones of my own.”

“You plan to rule alone then? No Queen to stand by your side?” Stuart comes to stand right in front of Neil. “That’s no way to live.”

Neil glances ever so slightly to the side, where Andrew sits. One hazel eye cracks open and stares right back at him. Why would he ever need a Queen, Neil wonders, when he knows Andrew will stay by his side forever?

"And what about treaties? The best way to solidify a relationship with foreign countries is through marriage!"

"You've already married off most of my cousins, Uncle. The only country we don't have peace with is Evermore, and the only way to achieve that would be to offer myself to Riko. Which," Neil scowls, "is never going to happen. I'll die before I go back."

"I'm just saying you should consider that having a Queen is important and you shouldn't toss the idea aside because you'd rather go frolic in the flowers."

"Mushrooms," Andrew murmurs. "That was his mushroom fever dream face."

Neil flushes, breaking eye contact to stare at a very interesting scratch in his desk.

"Mushrooms, flowers, I don't care. What matters is you aren't nearly focused enough on the fact that in a few short months you’ll turn 21 and ascend the throne!"

"I'm perfectly aware of that, Uncle." Neil sighs. "Every moment of every day I am aware of it. One does not simply forget the weight of an entire country resting on his shoulders."

"It wouldn't all be on your shoulders if you chose someone to rule with you."

Unerringly, his eyes find Andrew, and Neil knows he'll be fine.

~

"Do you really need to give Stuart another reason to be unhappy with you?" Andrew murmurs as they slip into the hidden passageway behind a painting in Neil's room.

"He'll be unhappy regardless so I might as well have fun anyway." Neil says, tucking his wings in and ducking below an archway. "Besides, what kind of King would I be to let my ex-fiance's minions continue to invade my territory without retribution?"

"You're not King yet," Andrew reminds him, then follows him through the door that exits the castle. "This is just stress relief, and you know it. Are the masquerade preparations weighing on you that much?"

"No," Neil sighs. "I just want to get away for awhile. You know I hate being cooped up in this castle so much."

"You should really reevaluate that sentence."

"Yes, I know, what a pampered prince I am." Neil snorts, unfurling his wings and zooming out past the walls to where Sir is waiting for him. She lets out a quiet  _ mrrow _ at the sight of him, and stands. Neil comes to a stop in front of her, gently cradling her soft face and pressing his forehead to hers. "Hello, lovely." He murmurs, running his fingers through her soft fur. "I hope you're well."

Andrew comes to a stop in front of her, petting the bridge of her nose while Neil flutters around her squishy body, checking for any sign of discomfort or injury and finding none.

"Alright, let's go kill some ravens."

Neil settles between Sir's shoulder blades with Andrew behind him, and off they go. Neil keeps his bow drawn and trusts Andrew to keep him seated as they soar through the underbrush. It takes only a few minutes for Sir to pick up the ravens’ scent and direct them towards the birds.

Neil nocks an arrow, releasing it in the same moment that a raven bursts into sight. Before the bird even hits the ground, he's repeated the motion, and manages to take out four more before the flock scatters. Sir follows them, as Neil whispers magic that encourages his arrows to fly faster, farther, truer.

Sir brings them to the field where Neil met her, resting in a puddle of sunlight while Neil explores and Andrew follows.

Neil lowers himself to the ground, digging his fingers into the dirt and feeling the warm magic running beneath them. "The magic feels better already without the ravens here to pollute it."

Andrew hums, wings fluttering idly. He tilts his head back, watching the sky for a moment before murmuring, "Rain."

Sure enough, as soon as Neil glances upwards, the clouds have rolled in and a few droplets hit him in the face. Neil's lips tug into a smile, and a giggle tumbles out of his lips. He stands, wings waving, and just feels the rain for a few minutes. Then, he looks to Andrew with a grin on his lips and asks, "Wanna dance?" 

Andrew stares at him a moment before holding out a hand. Neil takes it and lets himself be pulled close to Andrew, their chests almost touching. Andrew's free hand guides Neil's to Andrew's shoulder before curling around Neil's waist, and readjusts his grip on Neil's other hand.

The rain continues to fall, and they continue to sway in circles. They don't speak, don't ruin the moment, just hold each other, cheek to cheek, heartbeat to heartbeat.

Eventually, as all things must, it ends, in the form of a sneeze from Andrew. 

The fondness on Neil’s face, in his smile, in his eyes, make Andrew’s heartbeat flutter faster than Neil’s wings in the middle of a race.

“Catching a cold, Drew?” Neil teases, not relinquishing his hold on Andrew’s shoulder and hand. 

“Of course not.” Andrew stifles another sneeze. “We should get back before you do, though.”

“I don’t catch cold,” Neil says loftily. “I am like a plant; it nourishes me.” 

“I hate you,” Andrew glares. 

“Liar,” Neil smirks, and tugs Andrew towards the castle. 

~

“No, your hand goes here,” The instructor smacks Neil’s hand down to Andrew’s waist, and it unerringly slides back up to Andrew’s ribs. 

“I’m sorry,” Neil murmurs, more to Andrew than the teacher. Andrew’s heart splutters, knowing Neil is enduring the instructors ire simply to avoid touching Andrew where he knows isn’t okay.

That’s what tips the scales, in the end. That Neil apologized for a fleeting brush and kept his hand only where he had been given permission to touch. Andrew tenses for a moment before relaxing and reaches down to shove Neil’s hand to the dip in his waist. 

“It’s fine. Focus on the footwork, Junkie,” Andrew grumbles, glancing down at his own feet. 

“Chins up!” The instructor’s shrill voice invades their ears, and Neil winces. She drones on more about proper step sequence, but Andrew just watches Neil, enjoying the way his face scrunches up to concentrate on not stepping on Andrew’s feet. 

The instructor makes some noise of irritation and wanders off to correct a pair of Neil’s cousins who are  _ definitely _ doing it wrong. 

“I’m at least eighty percent sure there isn’t supposed to be… well any of  _ that _ in this dance,” Neil murmurs, watching his cousins with a tired smile.

“Better them than you,” Andrew replies. “Everyone will be so focused on their dancing no one will notice how often you step on my feet.”

“I’m trying not to!” Neil groans. “This is stupid. Why do I even have to dance at this ball?” 

“Probably so your uncle can try yet again to set you up with some princess from a visiting kingdom.”

“I wish he would stop,” Neil says, leaning into Andrew. “I’m not going to marry any of them, and it’s a waste of time. He’d be better off introducing them to one of my cousins.”

“I know,” Andrew tells him, spinning them in a lazy circle. "I doubt he will stop, though. He’s nearly as stubborn as you."

"Fuck off," Neil rolls his eyes. "I'm not that stubborn."

"And you call me a liar. Should I recite the list alphabetically or chronologically?"

"Neither!" Neil splitters, cheeks going a pretty pink. "You're distracting me from my footwork." Neil punctuates this with a seemingly accidental step on Andrew's foot, but Andrew knows better and quickly wraps his arms tightly around Neil's lithe waist, lifting him off the ground.

"You are a menace," Andrew tells him, squeezing. "We're leaving." He leisurely shifts Neil to hang over his shoulder, and flits towards the door. "The prince isn't feeling well," he calls out when the instructor looks their way. "He’s retiring to his chambers and is not to be disturbed."

Andrew sets Neil down once they are far enough away from the ballroom, and they make a detour to the kitchen for snacks before hiding away in Neil's room. 

"See, why would I need some stuffy princess when I have you?" Neil asks, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

Andrew blinks at him a few times, then shakes his head. "Idiot," he murmurs. 

"What? It's true!" Neil protests. "Stuart wants me to marry so I don't have to do this all alone? Well, I won't be, you'll be there with me. He thinks I need someone to keep a level head when my temper gets the best of me, but you already do that! I have my cousins for heirs, and I have no interest in having sex with some woman I hardly know. I have you, and I don't need or want anyone else."

Neil hesitantly reaches out and interlocks their fingers. 

"You're everything to me, don't you get that?"

Andrew squeezes Neil's hand, his throat growing continuously drier. Only Neil would be so earnest and honest. Andrew's only wish had always been just to stay by Neil's side, and here Neil was, serving it up on a gilded platter. He thought his heart might explode.

"As you are to me," Andrew replies, nearly choking on the words. 

Neil's face lights up, the corners of his eyes crinkling, his lips tilting impossibly high, and pink spilling across his cheeks.

"So you'll stay? With me?" Neil purses his lips, swallowing, before tentatively adding, "Forever?"

Andrew keeps his mouth shut but nods, leaning his shoulder against Neil's and squeezing his fingers once more.

~

Andrew is fucking tired. 

Neil has been flying at full speed for almost an hour and Andrew can barely keep up, definitely not within the range expected of him. He’s sweating through his leather tunic, and if Andrew gets one more piece of pollen to the face he is going to commit a  _ crime. _

Finally,  _ finally _ , Neil slows to a stop and lands, panting, on the arched top of a mushroom. Andrew lands a few seconds later, dropping to one knee on impact. 

“I thought we were past the days of you trying to lose me,” Andrew huffs, peeling off his outer coat and tossing it away. “You’re going to pull something if you keep flying like that.”

“I’m fine,” Neil mutters, shedding a few of his own layers and laying flat on the mushroom. “Maybe if you didn’t smoke so much you wouldn’t have such a hard time keeping up.”

“No one can keep up with you, you hellish beast,” Andrew says, following Neil’s lead and plopping backwards. “You could have at least told me where we were going so I could shadow step.” 

“What’s the fun in that?” Neil teases, tilting his head to the side to look at Andrew. His pretty blue eyes sparkle with mischief, lips curling up at the corners in a way that’s familiar only to Andrew. 

“Fuck off.” Andrew closes his eyes, ignoring his stuttering heartbeat and taking a few calming breaths. He has to, or his traitorous feelings for Neil, the warmth he is struck with when Neil looks at him, the way his heart slams against his ribcage when Neil smiles, would all become obvious to Neil. Andrew knows of the horrors Neil endured in Evermore, and refuses to add to that. 

Neil will make the first move or nothing will ever happen. 

Nothing ever  _ should _ happen, really. Neil is a prince, will one day be King of the Court, and Andrew is but his bodyguard. Clearly his heart didn’t get that memo. 

But.

Andrew is self-destructive, not stupid. Even if Neil doesn’t realize it, he’s perfectly capable of desciphering the soft glances Neil gives him. He sees the way Neil only ever smiles for him. 

“What happened?” Andrew asks quietly. “You only ever go flying off to the mushroom field when you’re feeling out of control. I was only gone for half an hour, but knowing you that’s plenty of time to get into trouble.”

Neil covers his face and mutters something unintelligible into his hands. Andrew gently nudges Neil’s boot with his own and Neil dramatically sighs, dropping his hands off to the sides. 

“It’s stupid,” Neil groans. “I’m overreacting.”

“What happened?” Andrew repeats, looking at Neil until he makes eye contact. 

“Nicky bumped into me,” Neil says. “I almost fell over, so he grabbed my waist, and I just… it was like I was back at Evermore. I couldn’t breathe. It’s not Nicky’s fault though,” Neil says. “Don’t get pissed at him for an accident.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“I’m literally your boss.” 

“No, your uncle, the  _ King _ is my boss.” Andrew corrects him. “You are my charge.”

“Fuck off,” Neil says. Andrew rolls his eyes, something he would never do in the presence of anyone but Neil, and slowly reaches out his hand, pressing it against Neil’s neck.

“You are more than your trauma,” Andrew murmurs. “You are recovering and there is nothing wrong with how you react to triggers. I will speak to Nicky about being better about keeping his hands to himself.” Neil sighs quietly but nods. 

“Thank you.” Neil leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

~

"Neil, I swear, if I find out you have left this room I will make Nicky your new maid, and ensure you aren't allowed to dismiss him." Andrew threatens, standing next to Neil at his vanity as Neil detangles his pretty curls. They lock eyes in the glass with Neil’s hands up at an awkward angle in his hair. "Are we understood?"

"Yes, Drew," Neil sighs. "I'm not a child, you know." He pulls at a tangle until he winces. He’s gentler as he continues on, hyper-aware of Andrew’s eyes on him.

Neil wishes Andrew didn’t have to go. Security meetings and debriefings come a dime a dozen, but ones that Andrew are required to attend are rare, and by that nature, to be taken very seriously. Neil knows Andrew wouldn’t go if it wasn’t important, knows that it makes him anxious having Neil out of his sight.

It makes Neil anxious to be cooped up in his room with strict orders to stay put. 

Years of Riko’s abuse made sure of that, like an overstrung instrument wound so tight it could  _ snap _ .

"You might as well be. Stay here. I mean it." With that, Andrew stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and heads to his meeting.

Neil waits five minutes, then ten, then another five just to be sure, before tossing his hair in a messy ponytail and grabbing his bow.

He slips out of the castle with ease, hopping on Sir where she’s been waiting for him, and they disappear into the forest to explore.

Neil has to bite the inside of his cheek to ignore the horrible churning guilt in his gut. He never said he would stay in his room, didn’t make any promises, but clearly his heart didn’t get the memo as it feels like he is betraying Andrew.

“It’s just a little trip into the woods,” Neil mutters, shifting in his seat. “I’m just going to ride Sir, maybe eat some blueberries, then be back before he ever knows I was gone.”

Where he would then have to avoid letting Andrew sense his guilt. How was he planning on doing that again?

“Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” Neil tells himself. “He’ll be unhappy but it won’t matter when he can see I’m safe, and we won’t have to think about it until the next security meeting. It’ll be fine.”

Neil urges Sir to go fast, faster, as fast as she can. He adores the feeling of her sinewy muscles beneath him, propelling them forward at speeds Neil can't reach on his own. It helps distract him from the pit in his stomach.

It’s because he is so focused on the wind in his hair and everything blurring around him, he doesn’t notice the gigantic castle in front of them until Sir comes to a stop in front of it. 

“What’s this?” He asks her, looking on in amazement at the structure in front of them. She walks them up to what Neil assumes is the door, with a suitably Sir sized opening at the base. “Is this where you run off to when you aren’t with me?” Sir purrs as he pets her neck, ducking when she walks them through the door. 

Everything is huge, impossibly big. Sir jumps lithely onto a supersized counter and lays down, a sign for Neil to climb off. He flies off, flitting to the different things littering the counter. 

“This is incredible, what kind of being lives here?” 

Neil pulls at a ring of keys, grunting at how heavy they are. 

“So strange,” he murmurs. He turns back to Sir just as the glass walls come down around him.

A wingless giant stares at Neil, his hand holding a jar over Neil. Neil slams into the side, wings flapping heavily in an attempt to move it. “No!” Neil screams. “No! Let me out!”

The many, many times he had been locked up at Evermore creep up in the back of Neil’s mind, sending cold sweat down his back. 

Neil tries flying to the top and pushing the jar up, but it's useless with the giant hand resting atop it. The jar moves, and Neil with it, a lid closed atop it and tightened quickly. Neil hits the lid as hard as he can. 

“Please! I’ll run out of air!” Neil shouts, hitting at the glass and looking into the giant’s eyes. Sir hisses from below, scratching and biting at the giant’s feet. 

“Sir, what has gotten into you?” The giant’s voice booms. “Stop that.” He looks back to Neil, his absurdly large face coming close to the jar. Neil heaves, flitting around and trying to find a way out. 

“You’re incredible,” The giant murmurs. “Look at your wings!” 

Neil blinks, belatedly realizing they speak the same language. Fantastic. Neil presses his hands together in what he hopes is a universally understood pleading motion. The giant raises an eyebrow. Neil points up at the lid, then mimes choking. 

“Holy shit, you’re trying to communicate!” 

Neil covers his ears at the volume of the giant’s voice, wincing. 

“Oh, fuck, sorry!” The giant’s volume decreases significantly. 

Neil hopes dearly that their alphabets are the same and backs up, breathing deeply and forming vines with his hands, as big as he can get them. He spells ‘AIR’ and holds it up for the giant to see. 

“Air?” His eyes go wide. “Oh my god, air! You’ll run out!” 

Neil drops the vines, nodding vigorously and making the pleading motion again. 

“I’ll open it, just please don’t fly off!” The giant says. “I’m Matt, I’ve been dreaming about meeting a fairy my whole life.” 

Neil nods again, making a point of sitting at the bottom and tucking his wings away. Matt quickly unscrews the jar, and Neil hesitantly stands, wings unfolding. He flies out of the jar, happy to be out of the confined space, and lands on the counter. 

“My name is Neil,” he shouts at the top of his lungs. Matt’s eyes widen and he leans in so close Neil can touch his nose. 

“You talked!” He whispers. “I couldn’t tell what it was but you talked!” Neil rolls his eyes, flitting forward to Matt’s ear and repeating himself. “Neil?” 

Neil backs away and nods. 

“I’m sorry for trapping you, Neil. That was a dick move,” Matt says. “I was worried you’d disappear.”

Neil holds out a thumbs up, and Matt beams. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He says. “I’d shake your hand, but it’s so tiny!” Neil laughs, nodding. 

“You too!” Neil yells. He flies close enough to gently pat Matt’s nose. 

“I can’t believe this is happening!” Matt’s eyes fill with tears. “All I’ve ever wanted is to meet a fairy.” 

“I didn’t know beings of your caliber existed,” Neil tells him. “I’m glad to be of service, I suppose.” 

“My caliber?”

“Size! You’re huge!” 

“I’m not huge!” Matt chortles. “You’re just small.”

Neil rolls his eyes again.

“Where do you live? How did you not know about me?” 

“My castle is deep in the forest, hidden away,” Neil tells him. “I haven’t been this far away in years, and I had no clue this place existed. My kind tend to keep to ourselves.”

“That makes sense,” Matt nods along. “You have a castle?”

“I am to be king,” Neil flushes. 

Matt’s jaw drops, eyes going wide.“King!” 

Neil begins to nod, but is interrupted by the small cat door swinging open and a black cat Neil has never seen before practically flying into the room with Andrew hanging tightly to its back. 

“Andrew!” Neil shouts, barely moving an inch before Andrew is in front of him, pushing Neil behind him and drawing his knives. His body tenses as he stares at Matt in mute horror. 

“Holy fuck, there’s another one,” Matt whispers, falling back into his chair.

“I said not to leave your room,” Andrew hisses. “That’s it. The one thing I asked. Do you know how far away from your room this is?”

“I know, I’m sorry!” Neil says, hesitantly holding out a hand over Andrew’s shoulder and waiting for his nod of consent before setting it down and squeezing comfortably. “Don’t worry about Matt, he won’t hurt us.” 

“Matt?” Andrew asks, leaning back into Neil’s touch but knives still drawn.

“The giant,” Neil explains. “This is where Sir lives. She was showing me when he found me. I guess we are fabled among his species.” Neil’s hand slides down to Andrew’s. “Put these away. You don’t need them.” Andrew hesitantly does so, eyes never leaving Matt.

“Your uncle almost killed the guards that were assigned to your room,” Andrew tells him. “You’re never leaving my sight again.”

“I deserve that,” Neil says, stepping around Andrew. He raises his voice. “Matt! This is Andrew, my…” he pauses, realizing he doesn’t know exactly what Andrew is to him. “He’s my friend.” Neil knows ‘friends’ isn’t enough to explain their relationship, but Matt doesn’t need the whole story. 

“Nice to meet you, Andrew,” Matt says, beaming. “Sorry for worrying you!” 

Andrew scowls and turns around to face Neil, pulling him in close and pressing his face against Neil’s shoulder for a moment before leaning back. “Don’t you dare ever do that again,” Andrew whispers. “I’ll kill you.”

“I’m sorry,” Neil murmurs. Andrew breathes in deeply before leaning back. 

“We have to get you back to the castle as soon as possible, before Stuart has a stroke.” Neil sighs but he knows it’s for the best. 

“We have to go,” he calls out to Matt, who leans in. “I promise to come visit again soon!” 

The two fairies mount their feline steeds and ride home, never veering too far from each other.

Stuart, predictably, is irritated Neil was gone for hours, but Andrew placates him by saying Neil was simply napping in the flowers, and Andrew wouldn’t let it happen again. 

That night, they lay on Neil’s bed facing each other, hands loosely joined. 

“You can’t do that again,” Andrew murmurs. “You can’t.”

“I won’t,” Neil promises, scooting forward till their noses are almost touching. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were lost.” Andrew’s eyes slide shut. “I thought Riko had you, and I was ready to storm Evermore if that was what it took to bring you home.”

Neil watches his face, the pain masked there, and tightens his grip on Andrew’s hand. 

“You are mine, and I am yours, and nothing will ever come between us again.” 

Andrew doesn’t answer, but he squeezes Neil’s hand, and he knows everything will be okay. 

~

Andrew finishes buttoning up his jacket when Neil sweeps into the room, something hidden in his hands behind his back. 

“I’ve brought you something,” Neil sings, his whole face lit up with a smile. 

He looks beautiful, dressed in gauzy silks that wrap around his lithe frame like a second skin, draped in golden vines that encircle his neck, waist, biceps, and trail behind him. Bracelets of wildflowers adorn his wrists and ankles, and a crown of matching flowers is nestled into a ring of intricate braids and dripping clear crystals. 

Someone, Nicky most likely, has even managed to outline Neil’s eyes in kohl and dust his cheeks with a powder that makes him practically glow. 

Andrew tries to come up with something witty to say, but every thought he has is overshadowed by how overcome he is by Neil’s elegance.

“Cat got your tongue?” Neil asks coyly, and Andrew has no choice but to nod. He skips forwards, eyes sweeping over Andrew’s form. “You don’t look too shabby yourself, Andrew.”

“There are no words to describe how much I hate you,” Andrew chokes out, and Neil just grins. 

“Close your eyes?” Neil asks, and Andrew complies with ease. Something light is set on his head, and Neil’s fingers play with his hair for a moment. 

Something far from dread creeps up Andrew’s spine, and he opens his eyes, glancing in the mirror to the side of him, to see a crown of flowers matching Neil’s own atop his head. 

“I know it isn’t all black, which ruins your aesthetic, but I was hoping you’d indulge me just this once?” 

Andrew looks back to Neil, and knows he’d burn the world down if only Neil were to say the words. 

“Fine,” Andrew mutters, ducking his head and hoping his ears aren’t too red. He knows the frantic beating of his heart can’t possibly be as loud as he thinks it is, but Neil steps farther into his space with a murmured  _ yes or no? _ And Andrew is so, so gone. “Yes.”

Neil’s fingers lightly tap his chin up, forcing Andrew’s eyes to his own. 

“I hope you’ll save me a dance?” Neil says, leaning in to press their foreheads together, and gently entangling their fingers.

“I would think you’d be sick of dancing with me by now,” Andrew rests a hand on Neil’s ribs. “I suppose I can resign myself to one more night of having my toes crushed.” 

“Hey!” Neil lightly smacks his shoulder with his free hand. “I’ve gotten much better at it, so I might not step on you at all!”

“Wouldn’t that be a miracle.” Andrew pulls back, and guides Neil to the door. “We should go, Your Highness. We wouldn’t want to be late.”

“It’s my party, I don’t think I  _ can _ be late.” Neil quirks an eyebrow, lips slipping into a secret grin. “Sir Minyard.” 

Andrew snorts, pressing his face to Neil’s shoulder for a moment to hide his smile.“I don’t think I’ll ever get over being called that,” Andrew admits. “If you saw the house I grew up in, you wouldn’t ever call me ‘Sir’ again.”

“I call you ‘Sir’ because that is your title. You are a knight:  _ my _ knight.”

“And you are my King,” Andrew murmurs.

They come to a stop in front of the ballroom doors, and Neil takes a deep breath, reluctantly letting go of Andrew’s hand and pulling their masks from where they’re hidden in his outfit. Andrew has no idea how he managed that. Andrew’s mask is a black and gold number that seems to trickle down his face, starting above his right eye and ending curled at the left side of his jaw. Neil’s own is white and light blue, simple with few embellishments. 

“Announcing His Highness, Crown Prince Nathaniel!” The herald calls out, and the doors swing open to reveal Neil in all his glory. “Accompanying him is Sir Andrew Minyard, of Columbia!” 

Neil enters first, giving the gathered court a polite smile and wave, then Andrew, who glances around quickly to ensure there are no threats.

Neil doesn’t wait for Andrew before walking to his throne. His uncle watches from his own throne, standing only when Neil reaches the dais. They nod at each other, and Andrew shadow steps behind Neil’s throne, out of sight for the most part but still a threatening structure behind his prince.

Andrew tunes out while Neil makes his speech, carefully examining the room for any danger and finding none. He holds his place while Neil greets his guests one by one, holding back a sneer at the fake smile Neil keeps in place. 

It takes over an hour before Neil is finished and can finally grab something to eat before he’s forced to dance with an indeterminable amount of princesses. Andrew follows him silently, snatching a few sweets from the buffet table himself.

“The chefs have outdone themselves,” Neil murmurs to him, sucking the juice of one dish from the tip of his finger. Andrew watches the action hungrily, jaw tightening. 

“They always do,” Andrew says when his tongue decides to unglue itself from the roof of his mouth. Neil grins at him, and he knows he’s been caught. 

“I think they have fudge,” Neil says loftily, lips curled into a secret smile. “Should I grab you some?”

“No, thank you,” Andrew grits out, forcing his eyes away from Neil’s ridiculously pretty face and out to the surrounding crowd. “Your uncle is on his way.”

Neil sighs inaudibly and cleans his fingers in a provided bowl of water, drying them quickly before turning to his approaching uncle. 

“Nathaniel,” Stuart greets. “This is Princess Laila of the Trojan Court.”

“A pleasure.” Neil forces his grimace into a smile and bows. 

“The pleasure is all mine.” Princess Laila sounds almost as unhappy with the situation as Neil does. “I was hoping you might indulge me in a dance?”

“Of course,” Neil agrees, holding out a hand. He glances back to Andrew, looking displeased but resigned, then leads Laila out to the dance floor. 

Andrew watches from a distance, standing next to Stuart. 

“I just don’t understand,” Stuart tells him with frustration. “I’ve introduced him to every available princess and noblewoman, but none of them interest him. Even Princess Laila, who shares his interest in adventure, clearly isn’t attracting him.”

“His Highness has no interest in marrying,” Andrew says flatly. “He has expressed as much many times.”

“He needs someone!” Stuart argues. “Someone to share everything with, to support him. Someone who will always care for him.”

“He has me.” 

Stuart looks at him silently, eyes widening in realization. He glances back at Neil for a moment, catching him looking at Andrew, and Andrew thinks that maybe he finally understands that their bond goes so much deeper than prince and protector.

“I suppose he does,” Stuart murmurs. “I suppose he does.” 

Andrew doesn’t watch him walk away, instead stepping forwards towards Neil. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short, Your Highness,” Neil tells Laila as soon as he is close. “But I’m afraid my next dance partner has arrived.” Laila grins at the two and happily steps away, heading off towards one of her guards.

Neil’s hands take their place on Andrew’s body with ease, and they come close enough for their noses to brush. 

“What did my uncle say?” Neil asks after a moment. “He looked thoughtful.”

“I think he’s done trying to set you up with princesses,” Andrew admits. “He appears to have had an epiphany.”

“I hope so,” Neil leans in to rest his chin on Andrew’s shoulder. “I’m tired of people interrupting my time with you.” Andrew doesn’t grace that with a response, but his grip on Neil tightens, and he brushes a kiss against Neil’s temple. 

As expected, Stuart doesn’t bother bringing any other princesses over, and no one dares interrupt the two dancing the night away. 

In the early hours of the morning, they manage to stumble back to Neil’s room, and almost fall asleep pulling flowers out of Neil’s hair. 

“G’night Drew,” Neil slurs when he finally manages to fall into bed. “Love you.”

Andrew presses his lips to Neil’s forehead. “And I you.”

~

“Wake up,” Andrew murmurs, brushing Neil’s hair from his face. “It’s nearly two in the afternoon.” 

Neil grumbles something, reaching up and pulling Andrew down on the bed with him. “Just a little longer,” he whispers, but his eyes crack open and he leans forwards till their foreheads are pressed together. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew asks, heart in his throat.

“Yes,” Neil replies without hesitation.

Kissing Neil is indescribable. It’s a hurricane, it’s the waves of the ocean crashing against rocky coasts, it’s the feeling of sun warming skin. It’s everything.

Andrew holds Neil tightly, and is never letting go.

**Author's Note:**

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